Operation DOOM
by AwkwardScenario813
Summary: Zim decides that he needs to figure out what armor Gaz might be hiding from him... and in the process decides to try a few new expiraments (that Gir accidentally gives him ideas for) that makes his squeedily spooch quiver with mission goo... Please review...


Chapter I

"GIR! I demand you bring the tape measure at once!" the green skinned Irken shouted from his lab. He tapped his foot impatiently, looking around the oh so familiar lab he called home. There were wires and gigantic cords everywhere, and a screen.  
"Sir, why do you need a tape measure?"  
"SILENCE YOU... YOU..." Zim screeched, finding some difficulty thinking of a name to call his nosy computer. "DUMB-BOOGER!" he shouted, jabbing a finger at a direction (as any direction would be pointing to somewhere on the massive system.)  
"Wow, you really need to work on that," the computer said, unfazed. Zim sneered angrily.  
"GIR!" he shouted again, impatience getting the better of him. There was a sudden crash with the sound of metal behind him, causing him to turn around.  
"Somebody cut the taco," the little robot said fondly. He squirmed to his feet and trotted over to Zim, holding the tape measure tightly.  
"Measure me NOW," Zim hissed. The robot's eyes turned red and he saluted.  
"Yes my lord!" he replied shortly and began to take his master's measurements before standing before him.  
"You have had a two centimeter increase in height since last week, sir!" Gir reported before his eyes turned blue. "You look like a piggy!"  
"SILENCE!" Zim screeched before turning away from his SIR unit. Two centimeters? After so many years he's growing again? Why!? Zim contemplated the possibilities.  
Could it be the atmosphere on Earth? Or even- ugh- the Earth scum substance called food?  
"Why am I suddenly getting taller? I've been this size for years! So many years," Zim cried. Not that he was complaining about his growing, but he wanted to know WHY- was he ill? Or perhaps his Pak was oddly reprogramming itself. He has lived on Earth for almost two years now, and while he remained smeet-sized Zim, his classmates were getting taller- perhaps his Pak was trying to help him catch up?  
"Computer!" Zim suddenly bellowed.  
"Yes?"  
"I want you to take my goo levels and compare them to this filthy planet's filthy, dooky-filled atmosphere!" Zim hissed.  
"Sure, fine- you don't have to scream, you know," the computer muttered.  
"SILENCE! ZIM IS NOT SCREAMING!" the alien screamed. "Gir!"  
"Piggy piggy piggy," the robot said, playing with his favorite pink toy as wires tapped into Zim's Pak.  
"Gir! Zim demands that you put your disguise on before he leaves!" Zim cried as the wires pulled away.  
"Okay!" the robot chirped and pulled on the poorly-made green dog suit. Zim scowled and turned around, then grabbed his disguise. He pulled on the black wig and put in the blue contacts.  
"Alright, I'm off to mingle with the filthy hyooman worm-babies. Don't let anyone in the house, Gir!" Zim told the robot before getting in his elevator. He climbed out from the trash can upstairs and headed off to Skool. Along the way, he passed the Dib-stink's house. As he passed, Zim turned up his nose arrogantly, hoping this gesture offended his worst enemy. As he reached the Skool building, he felt someone's eyes burning into him. He turned around, scanning for the fiend.  
"Hey, Zim!" he heard the familiar voice cry out. He looked towards that direction, spotting Dib.  
"Ack! You!" Zim hissed.  
"Think fast!" Dib shouted, arm shooting forward. The next thing Zim knew, he was doubled over in pain, a little yellow ball bouncing away from him.  
"What freaky organ of yours was damaged this time!? Huh?" Dib asked. "I want to know what to be looking for when we finally get you on the dissection table!"  
"Hey, Dib- think fast!" some random voice said.  
"I always think fast- ARRRGH! My stomach!" Dib cried as a bright red dodge ball assaulted his stomach. He doubled over and fell, clutching his torso.  
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Weak hyooman stomachs!" Zim shouted victoriously, laughing at his enemy's misfortune.  
"Be quiet!" someone cried out. Zim turned, sneering, to the new voice. It was the big-head's little sister. She was engrossed in her Gameslave thingy, not even looking up as she squinted at the screen, pushing buttons furiously. Zim arrogantly stalked over to the girl, still a few inches shorter than his now two years aged classmate. She had changed some over the summer, her height was a bit taller and she had begun to take on a small amount of traits most of the tall female humans had, even if just barely. Zim took this down in his mental notes- perhaps it is something to do with their fighting styles, like some sort of armor. He snatched the game from her.  
"Dib-sister, your brother is- what is this, anyway? Does your military give you weapons? Is this a weapon?" Zim muttered, examining the video game intently, not noticing how enraged the violet-headed girl beside him was becoming.  
"My hands will be weapons of death if you don't give that back!" she threatened.  
"Really?" Zim asked, looking up before something hit him in the back of the head with a distant cry of "Green loser!" Zim blinked a moment, realizing he had been knocked over by the object that struck him. He pushed himself up, something softer than concrete beneath him.  
"Grrrrrrr..." he heard. He looked down, the violet girl beneath him.  
"ZIM! UNHAND MY SISTER!" Dib cried from behind him. Zim blinked a moment, finding his hands on the two very small lumps on Gaz's chest.  
"This isn't armor," he said curiously. He noticed Dib's sister had taken on a frightening expression- one that said imminent doom. Zim laughed nervously and began to stand up, only to be tackled down again by a heavier object.  
"How DARE you grope my little sister!" Dib shouted, pinning the little alien beneath him.  
"It's not my fault her armor is weak!" Zim hissed, kicking at the boy above him.  
"Armor? Gaz doesn't wear armor," Dib said, becoming confused.  
"None of your filthy business, hyooman stink head!" Zim hissed, pushing his spider legs from his Pak, successfully pushing Dib to the ground as he rose above the height of his human enemy. He dropped to the ground as the bell rang.  
"Oh, great, Zim- we're gonna be late because of you!" Dib accused.  
"Or will we?" Zim asked, beginning to use his spider legs to quickly crawl in through the window of his classroom.  
"That cheater," Dib muttered.  
"I'm going to doom him," Gaz muttered, picking up her Gameslave and beginning to play while she started towards class. Dib sighed. Then his head shot up.  
Wait a minute... If Zim had been thinking... Armor? Did Zim think that Gaz's... "No- Gaz was still way to flat chested. What else? If Zim- wait... Zim TOUCHED Gaz. With his super gross alien hands... And I was supposed to protect Gaz! And did none of the other idiots here notice the mechanical legs coming out of Zim's back? Is humanity doomed to this stupidity? Will-"  
"Dib! Shut up so I can teach the other children!" an older woman's voice hissed from a window.  
"Sorry, Ms Bitters! I'll be there in a minute!" Dib called. How much of his inner monologue has he said this time? How much trouble can he get in for saying things out loud? It's his thoughts, and if he voices them is that bad? "No, it can't be- I mean, I talk to myself all the time," Dib said out loud, again unaware of the fact he was voicing his thoughts again. Then something struck him over his immense head.  
"Ow! What the- Gaz?" Dib asked. She grabbed a fistful of his hair.  
"I'M NOT THAT FLAT-CHESTED!" she screeched in his face before releasing him and walking inside. Shortly after that, the tardy bell rang, and Dib was late for class. He silently blamed and cursed Zim before stomping into the depressing building called Skool. 


End file.
